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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221174">Missy’s Sleepover of Horror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra'>Kantayra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Masters and Doctors in the Matrix [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Explosives, F/M, Hair Braiding, Humor, Mild Gore, Minor Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), Minor Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Multi, Nail Polish, Presents, References to Genocide, Self-cest, Sexual Roleplay, Sleepovers, Storytelling, The Master Has Issues, Warning: Missy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:14:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How Missy entertained her past and future selves, terrorised multiple incarnations of the Doctor, and still came away as Mistress of the entire universe (and the Doctor's arse, to boot), using only an old history book, nail polish, some string, and her wits. And, really, she didn't even use the string.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), The Master (Simm) &amp; Missy &amp; The Master (Dhawan), The Master/The Master (Doctor Who), Twelfth Doctor/Missy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Masters and Doctors in the Matrix [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Missy’s Sleepover of Horror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Series premise: All the Masters, Doctors, and the Doctor's TARDIS are in the Matrix afterlife together.</p><p>Master numbering: I'm calling Simm!Master 18 and Dhawan!Master 20 (with Missy as 19 between them) because I need to distinguish them somehow in the narrative, and that was the reasonably plausible Master-numbering system I happened to pick when I started the series.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Open wide and say ‘ah’,” Missy ordered.</p><p>Seated on the examination table beneath her, the Doctor squirmed. It did no good, of course. She’d straddled him the instant he’d sat down, and she wasn’t letting him get away.</p><p>“‘Ah’,” she insisted impatiently and pinched him sharply on one of the bare arse-cheeks that his deficient hospital gown exposed.</p><p>“Ow!” he exclaimed.</p><p>Close enough. She took the opportunity to dive her tongue as far down his throat as she could manage. He made some muffled sounds, but she trapped his face between her palms and held him steady until she was done with her oral examination.</p><p>He looked delectably annoyed when she finally pulled away with a dramatic smack. “This is not how medical exams go.”</p><p>Missy rolled her eyes, slammed her palm into his chest, and forced him onto his back on the exam table. Slowly and deliberately, she leaned forward until her ear pressed against his chest directly over his left heart. “Really? You’re complaining about technical accuracy?” She turned her head to listen to his other heart. “Besides, you agreed to it.” Despite his cantankerous demeanour, his hearts went pitter-pitter-patter-patter every time she pressed their bodies together. His hearts had never been able to lie to her, despite his best efforts.</p><p>“When you said, ‘Let’s play doctor,’ I naturally assumed you’d said, ‘Let’s play, Doctor.’” Oh, he did like to make little challenges for her. So sweet of him, making her work for his delicious surrender. That just made it all the more special when he finally yielded entirely to her charms.</p><p>“It’s hardly my fault you ignore punctuation,” she smiled at him, with teeth. “Now,” she rose up off him suddenly, and gave him a hearty slap on the flank, “roll over. It’s time for your rectal exam.”</p><p>In retrospect, that was absolutely the worst time for the Doctor’s next incarnation to burst in. If Missy could’ve planned it that way, she absolutely would’ve. The Thirteenth Doctor’s expression was <em>priceless</em>.</p><p>“Oh no, what did I just walk in on?” The Thirteenth Doctor covered her eyes with one hand and looked away.</p><p>“Don’t you knock?” Missy’s Doctor fretted with trying to get his very skimpy exam robe to cover a remotely decent fraction of his body, and failed miserably. Then he tried dematerialising the robe and replacing it with his usual clothes, but Missy fought with him over control of the Matrix on that topic (naturally), and with two equally feisty wills demanding dominance, the Matrix gave up and stuck with the status quo.</p><p>The Doctor glared at Missy, all glowering and intimidating and still completely wrapped around her little finger.</p><p>“Don’t even try to pretend you don’t like it.” Missy twined her fingers inescapably around the hair at his nape. “You either,” she turned to where the Thirteenth Doctor was still pretending to give them some privacy. She keep sneaking glimpses their way though, the little minx. Missy hope she got some creative ideas for games to play with Missy’s next incarnation; the poor boy really could do with a good pegging.</p><p>“Why are you even here? It can’t be time yet. Is it time yet?” the Doctor asked, tasting the air to determine, presumably, that it was indeed that time. He groaned. “I may have got distracted,” he apologised to his future self.</p><p>With a sigh, Missy released her Doctor, retreated to the vanity she’d just mentally instructed the Matrix to construct, and began freshening up her lipstick. The Doctor immediately took advantage to restore his usual clothing. A pity: ‘arse hanging out’ was a good look on the Doctors.</p><p>“Yes, well, have you…?” the Thirteenth Doctor trailed off but was making dramatic eyebrow gestures at Missy’s turned back. Fortunately, Missy had strategically positioned one of the vanity’s side mirrors so that she could see everything the Thirteenth Doctor was doing.</p><p>This was all something to do with Missy, then. How intriguing.</p><p>“I…well…hadn’t quite got around to it yet…” the Doctor admitted sheepishly.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor gave him a disgusted look.</p><p>Missy rolled her eyes, spun around in her seat, and finally took pity on them both. “I don’t know why you two even bother,” she scolded. “You never knock. You’ve never been on time for anything in your lives. And you always forget to mention everything of importance. Honestly, would a little self-awareness kill you?” She’d pointed her accusing finger back and forth between them as she ticked off their faults, but at the end, she swirled it in a dramatic gesture around her head to encompass all the Doctors past, present, and future, because they were all equally hopeless. The things she’d put up with over her lifetimes for a good playmate!</p><p>Both the Twelfth and Thirteenth Doctors looked contrite, but only for a moment.</p><p>“You said you would ask,” the Thirteenth Doctor demanded of the Twelfth.</p><p>“I was going to!” Missy’s Doctor insisted.</p><p>“Let me save you some existential – literally – angst,” Missy cut in. “No, you weren’t. You would’ve procrastinated indefinitely,” she informed her Doctor, “and, yes, whatever it is you wanted him to ask me to do, I’ll do it,” she informed Thirteen.</p><p>Her Doctor blustered at the accusation.</p><p>Thirteen regarded her with suspicious, narrowed eyes. “You don’t even know what I want,” she accused.</p><p>“Of course not, that’s what makes it fun!” Missy exclaimed with a clap as she rose from her seat. “If I knew what it was, I would say no. Now, let’s go!” She caught her Doctor by the belt-buckle and yanked him up to his feet by his groin, just because she loved a bit of bludgeon-you-over-the-head symbolism. Or bludgeon-you-over-the-head anything, really. “Lead the way.”</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor would undoubtedly have been more sceptical if she didn’t know Missy, but she did. And so she did exactly what Missy said.</p><p>***</p><p>“Let me get this straight,” Missy said, calculatingly tapping the nail of her index finger against her teeth, “you want <em>me</em>…to babysit…<em>me</em>?”</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor looked flushed at that. It really was a perfectly ridiculous idea that only a Doctor could have come up with.</p><p>“If you wouldn’t mind,” Missy’s Doctor tried that thing that he sometimes did where he stood a bit too close in hopes of getting what he wanted from her, and Missy only allowed because she really, <em>really</em> liked it when her Doctor voluntarily stepped within striking range. “I promise you, you’ll like the results.”</p><p>“Will I <em>really</em>?” she gave her Doctor a seductive look over her shoulder and pressed back into him deliberately. Oh, yes, he was still quite hard from their little aborted game earlier.</p><p>The Doctor gulped and twitched slightly. Poor dear, those trousers must have been dreadfully uncomfortable.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor had that look in her eyes like she was preparing an impressive line of verbal bullshit. “Even you have to agree that, if he – you – wake up and I’m not there, he’s liable to become unstable. And seeing as he’s not particularly good at being left to his own devices for more than a few seconds without diving down <em>some</em> self-destructive rabbit hole, if you—” she began.</p><p>Missy cut her off with a laugh. “This plan is absolutely <em>insane</em>! Don’t worry: I love it!” She swooped down onto the Thirteenth Doctor’s bed and settled next to the Twentieth Master, who was still fast asleep, a diabolical little smile on his face. The blankets were mussed just so around where Missy sat, indicating all too clearly that the Thirteenth Doctor had recently vacated the spot. Missy lifted up the blanket and took a curious peek at her future self underneath. “Oh, lucky me,” she said approvingly. “Lucky you, too,” she turned back to the Thirteenth Doctor, and winked.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor eyed her warily. Missy’s Doctor was eyeing her warily, too. The two of them practically brimmed over with self-righteous concern. They really were absolutely <em>precious</em>, and Missy wanted to eat them both up.</p><p>“Are you certain this is a good idea?” the Twelfth Doctor whispered to the Thirteenth, sotto voce.</p><p>The Thirteenth shook her head slowly.</p><p>“Now, now,” Missy chided, “you can’t be getting cold feet <em>now</em>. You parents run along to your secret Doctors Anonymous meeting, and let us kids play without you.”</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor <em>definitely</em> looked alarmed at that, but the Twelfth Doctor took her by the arm and led her back toward their TARDISes. Thirteen looked almost longingly over her shoulder at them.</p><p>“You can join us next time,” Missy stage-whispered to her.</p><p>With a sigh, the Thirteenth Doctor stepped into her TARDIS and shut the door.</p><p>Sounds of twin whooshing, just slightly out of sync, signalled the Doctors’ departures.</p><p>That left Missy alone with himself. And he was quite a fine self, too. Handsome, symmetrical features; long, pretty lashes that currently hid wild, mad eyes; lush hair that Missy couldn’t resist petting, just a little.</p><p>The Twentieth Master leaned into her touch and make a sound distressingly like a purr in his sleep. Missy recognised the sound from some of her own more embarrassingly domestic moments with the Doctor. She had a lingering suspicion that, despite all her selves’ best efforts, they never had fully eradicated that damned cheetah virus.</p><p>With her other self fully in hand for the moment, Missy plucked her current book out of thin Matrix and set about to reading about the wonderfully inventive self-genocide on the planet of Antillion IV. She’d just gotten to the good part, where the Antillians had begun to gleefully murder every last member of their merchant class, when she suddenly burst into the room.</p><p>Well, she <em>said</em> ‘she’…</p><p>In reality, it was her Eighteenth incarnation, looking as suavely homicidal as ever. He focused his eyes upon her and the Twentieth Master in bed, looking supremely unsurprised by their intimate scene, before sweeping angrily about the room.</p><p><em>Where’s the Doctor?</em> Missy mouthed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes while he was looking the other way.</p><p>“Where’s the Doctor?” the Eighteenth Master demanded entirely unironically when he had finally determined that his Doctor was not, in fact, crouching behind the credenza in some bizarre game of hide-and-seek.</p><p>“Which Doctor would that be, exactly?” Missy asked overly politely, as if there was any doubt whatsoever.</p><p>Her Eighteenth self glared at her. “You know very well which Doctor I’m after,” he snapped.</p><p>“Oh!” Missy mocked. “Is he <em>pretty</em>? Does he have a super-skinny arse?”</p><p>His furious focus was now narrowed solely upon her, which was exactly the way she needed him. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, even coming from me.”</p><p>Missy, however, quite appreciated the sarcasm and planned to keep it up for as long as possible. “Had to endure whole <em>minutes</em> without him buggering you, have you? You poor thing!”</p><p>The Eighteenth Master sputtered indignantly. “What makes you think that <em>I’m</em> not the one buggering <em>him</em>?” he insisted, predictably.</p><p>“Of course you are, dear,” Missy nodded condescendingly. “Completely in control at all times, that describes you to a tee.”</p><p>Her Eighteenth looked ready to explode again, but then he eyed her shrewdly. “You know something,” he accused, stalking toward the bed like a predatory feline (<em>definitely</em> still some side-effects of that cheetah virus, oh dear…). “You’re trying to distract me from finding out.” He leaned forward onto the mattress, one hand on either side of her hips, and loomed over her with a menacing, toothy smile. “<em>Tell me</em>.”</p><p>At that moment, the volume of their exhilarating bout of flirtation had its natural consequence, and the Twentieth Master stirred in his sleep. He snuggled into Missy’s side for one moment, his hand instinctively reaching up to grope her breast, before he sensed that something was amiss, and his eyes shot open.</p><p>He glared first at Missy and then at the Eighteenth Master, who still hovered over her. “Where,” he demanded angrily, “is the Doctor?”</p><p>Oh, heaven help her… Missy shut her eyes for one wearying moment and rubbed several soothing circles into her temple with two fingers. “Seriously?” she said, deeply disappointed in herselves. “Are we <em>that</em> predictable?”</p><p>“What?” said the Twentieth Master before taking a moment to absorb the memories of his two previous selves’ encounter, to date.</p><p>“Yes, we absolutely are!” the Eighteenth Master insisted. “Don’t act like you’re <em>surprised</em>! You may like to pretend you’re better, but you follow the Doctor around like a lost little stray just as much as the rest of us.”</p><p>Missy had one moment of genuine outrage at herself. She really was so good at pushing all her own buttons.</p><p>However, the Twentieth Master, after his moment’s pause, was now back up to speed. “This is all a distraction,” he reminded the Eighteenth Master sharply. “<em>She</em> knows where the Doctors are.”</p><p>Missy’s past and future both turned to look at her in unison. Oh, if glares could disembowel!</p><p>“Sorry, darlings,” she patted them each on the cheek. “I know that the Doctors are all off in their TARDISes together, plotting something. <em>Do-gooding</em>, no doubt.” She brogued up the word ‘do-gooding’ because it deserved it, absurd concept that it was. “But I’m no wiser than you two as to their exact location. <em>I think</em>,” she leaned in for a good whisper, and the two of them leaned in closer in response, “<em>that it’s meant to be a surprise for us. So,</em>” she abruptly broke into a shout, causing them both to wince at the sudden change in volume, “act surprised!”</p><p>The Twentieth Master sulked at that; he really was a needy thing, constantly bouncing about murderously just as the edge of his Doctor’s peripheral vision.</p><p>The Eighteenth Master slumped onto the bed beside her and laid his head forlornly on her shoulder, as if he were a marionette whose strings had been cut, without a Doctor to obsess over.</p><p>Honestly, she could be <em>so</em> melodramatic. “There, there, boys,” she cooed. “We can have plenty of fun until our Doctors emerge again to shower us with the adoration to which we are so obviously entitled. It’ll be just like a sleepover!”</p><p>In perfect unison, on each of her shoulders, both Masters snorted. She really did have so much in common with herself.</p><p>“Yes, I can see how much fun you were having,” the Twentieth Master said snidely, picking up her reading material, “reading your…book.” He reconsidered, though, when he glanced at the title. “Oh, this. This wasn’t half bad,” he conceded.</p><p>“What is it?” the Eighteenth Master perked up slightly, intrigued despite himself at something two of his future selves actually found worthy of their attention.</p><p>Missy turned up the blanket (earning a yelp from Twenty as his naked genitals were exposed) and threw the covers over all three of them. “Storytime!” she informed them both excitedly.</p><p>Twenty and Eighteen exchanged a calculating look, then shrugged and laid down beside her. As one, the three of them mentally switched their clothing (or lack thereof) for pyjamas, because that was what sleepovers were all about. Twenty went with silk in dark purple with pale pink polka dots; Missy chose classic Victorian pale-blue ruffles that set off her eyes; Eighteen wore a plain white t-shirt and flannels with what looked like little red rocket ships and blue police boxes on them but, upon closer inspection, were actually ballistic missiles <em>aimed</em> at the little TARDISes, which was either meant to symbolise killing or fucking, probably both. Subtle as a bull ox in rut, as always, was Eighteen.</p><p>Missy flipped immediately to one of the juiciest parts of her book, because her selves had the attention span of a gnat regarding anything that didn’t involve 1) the Doctor, 2) setting up elaborate plans to kill the Doctor, or 3) setting up even more elaborate plans within the already elaborate plans to try to get the Doctor to notice them before they killed the Doctor.</p><p>“‘In an effort to extirpate the heathen landed class more efficiently,’” Missy began reading aloud, “‘the priory inventors released the first model of the Holy Eviscerator. The masses of acolytes were encouraged to watch the assembly-line slaughter and record execution selfies with the dying’s screams, before joining the throngs in the exsanguination amphitheatre just after supper in order to—’”</p><p>The Eighteenth Master’s eyebrows rose with every other word. “What planet was <em>this</em>?” he asked incredulously.</p><p>“Antillion IV,” Missy and Twenty said in unison.</p><p>“Oh,” Eighteen frowned. “I never went. A pity. If only I’d known…”</p><p>“Don’t feel too terribly bad, darling,” Missy patted his bum reassuringly. “I never made it, either. I’d only learned about it just before that incompetent pea-brain Rafando tried to execute me. And then, well…” Missy let out an exaggerated sigh.</p><p>“I went,” Twenty offered. “It was just as lovely as it sounds.”</p><p>“Ooh!” Missy squealed in delight. “Did you take any execution selfies?”</p><p>The Twentieth Master, of course, had. They had a bit of a scuffle before Twenty finally materialised a set of Venusian headphones, and they each took one of the three earbuds.</p><p>“Oh, you can actually <em>hear</em> the innards sluicing out!” Eighteen enthused at the first execution.</p><p>“Shh, shh!” Twenty giggled behind his hand. “This next one’s going to plead for his life!”</p><p>The pleas were cut off abruptly by the whir of slicing blades. Despite herself, Missy snorted and tried to cover it with a cough.</p><p>Eighteen eyed her slyly. “I knew you couldn’t be a <em>complete</em> lost cause,” he said almost fondly.</p><p>“Oh hush, you,” Missy sniffed, trying to compose herself. “That was a sentient being, and it’s absolutely <em>terrible</em> that they’re going to relentlessly annihilate their entire species, and—” A long strangled wail ended abruptly in the gurgle of entrails. Missy couldn’t help herself: little giggles started hitching in her throat.</p><p>That, of course, set off both Twenty and Eighteen into their own fits of giggles, which in turn set Missy off <em>more</em>, and before too long the three of them were trapped in an endless giggle-loop to the tune of the Antillians marching steadily toward extinction.</p><p>At some point Missy started crying, she was laughing so hard. “It’s just…” she insisted between mirthful tears, “…that it’s so <em>sad</em>!” Her efforts at saving face really weren’t effective at all. “I’m a moral person with empathy, and… Fuck it.” She finally gave up and settled in to enjoy some good quality murder.</p><p>They laughed their way through a few more execution selfies before Twenty started sharing his videos from The Final Days, three years later. By that point, the Holy Eviscerator had become sentient and self-replicating. The three of them let out a joint “whoop!” when the last Antillian was bifurcated and then, when only Holy Eviscerators were left with no further mission, they all self-destructed per their original programming, fusion reactors blowing in a series of mushroom clouds all about the horizon.</p><p>“Best. TARDIS-trip. Ever!” the Twentieth Master said nostalgically when they were done. And obviously, he knew best, because he’d been on all Missy’s and Eighteen’s trips as well.</p><p>“Well, that was fun,” Eighteen agreed with a yawn, “but I’m bored now.”</p><p>Missy started to sympathise, just a little, with what the Doctor had had to put up with all these eons. “Maybe you’d like to play spin the bottle?” she said condescendingly. “Never have I ever? <em>Truth or dare</em>?”</p><p>“With no Doctors and no disembowelling?” Eighteen pouted. “What’s the <em>point</em>?”</p><p>Even Missy was forced to concede this.</p><p>“We could always build a trap for the Doctor when she gets back,” Twenty offered hopefully.</p><p>That was shiny enough to catch Eighteen’s attention again. “Ooh! Does she get vicious when she gets angry? I love how vicious mine gets. Makes him all sorts of creative…”</p><p>Missy rolled her eyes. “The Doctor’s not going to get <em>angry</em> unless you find a way to kill insignificants that they’ve grown weirdly attached to.”</p><p>“Spoken like someone who’s never killed herself in his arms,” Eighteen retorted.</p><p>“Or threatened to delete the entire Matrix with me in it,” Twenty offered.</p><p>“You <em>would</em> find a way to ruin this for the rest of us,” Eighteen gave him an annoyed look. “Well, I hacked the environmental circuits so that pear is the only flavour of jam the Matrix can generate…”</p><p>“Ooh! I once hacked the Doctor’s biodata and rigged their regenerations so that they’ll <em>never</em> turn ginger!”</p><p>Eighteen’s eyes narrowed. This was now clearly a challenge to the death. “Well, <em>I</em> readjusted the Doctor’s visual cortex so that everything he read had every other word autocorrected. ‘He hard to pot up wilt this four’ <em>weeks</em>!”</p><p>“<em>I</em> replaced the Doctor’s voice with the sound of an Arcadian sousaphone! It took her <em>days</em> to even notice that no one could hear her incessant preaching. She just assumed she was talking over everyone else the way she always does because, it turns out, even <em>she</em> doesn’t bother to listen to her own yammering.”</p><p>“Now children,” Missy finally cut in, “I’m sure your Doctors hate you both equally well. Besides,” she smirked, “<em>I</em> once let the Doctor have his way with me just the way he likes: you know, all sweet and loving and doe-eyed…”</p><p>Twenty snorted, and Eighteen nodded in sympathy.</p><p>“…And then, right as we were coming together, I shouted out Brax’s name.”</p><p>“You <em>didn’t</em>!” Twenty clapped gleefully.</p><p>“What did he do? What did he <em>do</em>?” Eighteen bounced up and down on his pillows.</p><p>“Oh, you have never seen such <em>agony</em> on the Doctor’s face!” Missy sighed wistfully. “It was beautiful. Then, he got all stormy eyed and he held me down <em>hard</em> and, well…”</p><p>“Well, what?” Twenty demanded when the pause had gone on for far too long.</p><p>“Mmm,” Missy hummed, eyes shut tight in bliss, “you’ll just have to try it yourselves and find out.”</p><p>“You know that won’t work,” Eighteen complained. “The Doctor will remember when you did it to him, and they’ll know we just stole your idea.”</p><p>“Sorry, boys, but it’s just a little bit <em>private</em>, you understand? Sweet, rough revenge between just my Doctor and me.”</p><p>They both, in unison, tried to strip the memories from her mind. Unfortunately for them, the three of them were all equally skilled telepaths, and Missy didn’t let her mental shields down one bit.</p><p>“Tell us?” Eighteen pleaded with a pouty lower-lip jutted out.</p><p>“Tell us!” Twenty threatened with a deadly furious snarl.</p><p>Missy cackled. “What are you going to do to me if I don’t? <em>Torture</em> me?” She let a shiver of anticipation run down her spine at the thought. “Mmm, please do…”</p><p>Eighteen and Twenty looked at each other. There was a moment’s pause, where Missy was reasonably certain that some sort of telepathic link had been established. A minute, and a slow, sinister smile curved both their lips. In unison, they turned to look at her with wild, deranged eyes.</p><p>Oh, she was in for such a <em>treat</em>, she just knew it!</p><p>Eighteen lunged for her shoulders, the same time that Twenty lunged for her legs. She managed to twist out of Eighteen’s grasp, but that only caused her to collide with Twenty. (They were, after all, three Masters in a bed designed to only comfortably fit two.) Twenty grabbed onto her from behind, pulling her back against him, while Eighteen tried to hold her legs down. She managed to get a brilliantly aimed kick right at Eighteen’s gonads before sinking her nails and teeth hard into Twenty’s arms that held her. It gave her the moment’s respite she needed to slip out from between them and dive for the end of the bed.</p><p>Unfortunately, nothing really did any permanent damage in the Matrix, and they both recovered near instantaneously. Eighteen tackled her back down onto her stomach on the bed beneath him, and he was larger, stronger, and heavier than she was. She still made a nice go of bucking him off, kicking and clawing wildly until he finally wrenched her arms behind her to hold her in place. Twenty sat on her legs, effectively removing that mode of defence as well.</p><p>To no one’s surprise, they were both hard. Hell, Missy was wet, too. This was the best masturbation she’d managed in <em>years</em>.</p><p>“Tell us now,” Eighteen purred against her ear. He really did have such a seductive voice when he put his mind to it. “We <em>could</em> make this very, very good for you, if you just tell us.”</p><p>It would have been so easy. But, then, Missy couldn’t even remember the last time she’d done something the easy way. “Honestly, darling,” she taunted him, “you know me better than that.”</p><p>“Oh, I was hoping you would say that,” Twenty said excitedly. “One last chance?”</p><p>Missy blew a raspberry at him over her shoulder.</p><p>“Do it!” Eighteen encouraged. “No mercy!”</p><p>Twenty grinned maniacally, caught hold of her foot and then, with cruel deliberation, wiggled the tips of his fingers faintly over the sole of her foot.</p><p>“Ack! No!” Missy’s sides instantly felt like they were going to burst. “Don’t <em>tickle</em> me!”</p><p>And then Eighteen caught her by the scruff of her neck and forced her face down into the mattress where she couldn’t see what Twenty was doing anymore. Without that visual cue, she had no way to steel herself. Tickles came randomly, brutally, persistently until she was twitching helplessly with laughter, sides heaving, eyes tearing, respiratory bypass long since given out.</p><p>“S-S-St—” was all she could manage to stutter, but of course it was <em>her</em>, so her pleas fell upon entirely deaf ears.</p><p>“No mercy, not unless you tell us,” Twenty insisted.</p><p>“Maybe not even then,” Eighteen considered.</p><p>“Yeah,” Twenty agreed, “maybe not.”</p><p>She really wasn’t very good at convincing people to cooperate, was she? Fortunately, she was <em>excellent</em> at wheedling her way out of impossible situations. “M-M-Me-M-errr-cy!” she finally managed to stammer out.</p><p>There was a brief pause in the tickle-torture.</p><p>“I’ll tell you!” Missy blurted. “I’ll tell you <em>everything</em>!”</p><p>The pause lengthened. Missy’s past and future selves were undoubtedly communicating telepathically again. They must have been so <em>torn</em>, the poor dears. On the one hand, they so delighted in torturing themselves. On the other was their insatiable curiosity about just what the Doctor would <em>do</em> if they shouted out his brother’s name during the climax of their lovemaking. Decisions, decisions!</p><p>The interval gave Missy the chance to catch her breath and refill her respiratory bypass, which was the full extent of her plan up until this point. She did love a good improvisation.</p><p>“Okay,” Twenty finally agreed warily. “Tell us.”</p><p>“You’ll have to let me up first,” Missy demanded.</p><p>“What? No. You honestly think we’re going to fall for <em>that</em>?” Eighteen sounded downright offended at the thought.</p><p>“Much as I love the feeling of my old little Tinky-Winky,” Missy said snidely, “you’re <em>heavy</em>. Letting yourself go now that you’ve got a pretty Doctor to keep you?” Even Missy was impressed with the density of provocations packed into <em>that</em> retort.</p><p>Eighteen sputtered a bit, and Twenty said “Ooh, <em>burn</em>!” and laughed at him, which caused Eighteen to growl and launch himself at Twenty instead. One would think that this would all help Missy with her predicament, but – alas – they happened to be fighting right on top of her back.</p><p>“Ouch! Ow! Knock it off!” Missy complained as knees and elbows and penises were jammed into her. It seemed her incarnations got just as excited wrestling with each other as wrestling with her. Shocker!</p><p>Eventually, Eighteen tackled Twenty off to the side, using his height and weight to his advantage, and Missy rolled out the other way.</p><p>Now, a <em>sensible</em> Time Lady would have taken advantage of the fact that Eighteen had Twenty pinned down, and they were both distracted by trying to strangle each other. Strangely enough, the one thing that no one had ever once called Missy, through all her lives and centuries, was ‘sensible’.</p><p>“Giddyap!” Missy gleefully hopped on Eighteen’s back, digging her heels into his sides like one would spur on a horse, and covering his eyes and mouth with a hand each. Fortunately, she remembered that she bit – just as he did – and pulled away the hand over his mouth in the nick of time. Instead, she dug her nails into the fabric at the front of his pyjamas and kicked her feet hard against the bed, using the leverage to pull him back off Twenty.</p><p>In the ensuing chaos, quite a lot of limbs and bodies flailed about wildly, a good deal more poking occurred both deliberately and accidentally (Missy got Twenty extra good once, right between the arse-cheeks), and absolutely nothing was accomplished whatsoever in terms of determining anyone’s supremacy over anyone else. In short, it was pointless, chaotic pandemonium, just the way they all liked it best.</p><p>When they finally settled (because even good things couldn’t last forever), Missy was resting her head back on the pillow of Twenty’s buttocks, and Eighteen’s head was snuggled into Missy’s belly, and Twenty was propped up on his elbows, nipping playfully at the back of Eighteen’s calves, in a sort of autoerotic self-destructive triangle at the centre of the bed.</p><p>“Well,” Missy said with a contented sigh, “that was fun.” There were times, she thought, when fighting was even better than sex.</p><p>“You’re still going to tell us,” Eighteen said with a satisfied little hum when Missy raked her fingers through his hair.</p><p>“Why would I ever do something like that?” Missy asked incredulously.</p><p>“Because,” Twenty answered with an extended yawn, “if you don’t, we’ll tell your <em>Doctor</em> about how ticklish you are.”</p><p>Missy froze, wide-eyed in horror for one split-second. “You <em>wouldn’t</em>!”</p><p>“We absolutely would,” Eighteen agreed.</p><p>Missy shook her head at him. “Dearie, you killed yourself to spite the Doctor. Twice. There’s no <em>way</em> you’d give him dirt to use against me.”</p><p>“Maybe he wouldn’t, but I would,” Twenty retorted maliciously.</p><p>Missy considered. There was a good chance that was true. Twenty was unpredictable and unstable, to put it mildly. He’d been robbed of the purity of conviction Eighteen had maintained, and the vested self-interest that Missy still possessed. See, this was what happened when the Doctor twisted up their immorality.</p><p>“Fine,” Missy grudgingly agreed, “I’ll tell you.” She continued to stroke Eighteen’s hair fondly as she did so. “First the Doctor got very quiet and very dark.”</p><p>She could feel both Twenty and Eighteen shiver in response, no doubt imagining their own Doctors doing the same.</p><p>“And then he said that if I wanted obscenities in my mouth, he’d be happy to provide them. He used me <em>so well</em>, you wouldn’t believe it was the same Doctor. And all the while, he told me dirty little things. How I was a liar and he knew it, and I’d only ever been made for him, how I was too weak to ever hurt him in that way even if I’d wanted to, because I was so entirely <em>his</em> that I could never even look another Time Lord’s way.”</p><p>The room was utterly silent at that, as each of them absorbed the fundamental truth the Doctor had spoken.</p><p>“And then,” Missy finished lightly, “he walked away, without finishing me or himself, got into his TARDIS, and took off.”</p><p>Twenty actually <em>whimpered</em>.</p><p>Eighteen looked up at her, wide-eyed and horrified. “For <em>how long</em>?”</p><p>“It might even,” Missy admitted, dreading to remember it, “have been <em>hours</em>.”</p><p>Eighteen and Twenty looked very contrite and very sympathetic. Hours without the Doctor was something none of them was willing to tolerate anymore.</p><p>Which, in turn, reminded Eighteen and Twenty of their current predicament.</p><p>“Did the Doctor say when she was coming back?” Twenty asked hopefully.</p><p>Missy rolled her eyes. “All right, all right,” she finally relented from earlier, just because he would continue to be absolutely unbearable otherwise. “We’ll help you set your trap for her.”</p><p>“You will?” Twenty sounded hopeful.</p><p>“We will?” Eighteen looked up at her sceptically.</p><p>“<em>You</em> will,” Missy corrected Eighteen, and kicked his rump right off the end of the bed. “I’ll supervise.”</p><p>Twenty bounded out after him with an enthusiastic clap, which rather effectively cut off Eighteen’s impending argument.</p><p>Missy lounged back against the pillows and watched them work. Occasionally, she even called out unhelpful suggestions. (The helpful suggestions, she kept to herself. Such as the fact that booby-trapping the place where the Doctor meant to land her TARDIS would only work if the Doctor could actually properly parallel-park her damned TARDIS in the first place.)</p><p>They got about as far as they typically did when they worked together, which was to say that the trigger mechanism was just starting to function before they started fighting, and it never got anywhere beyond that. Missy watched their scuffle from a distance this time, appreciating the view of two such handsome incarnations of herself straining and tumbling in each other’s arms. She might even have touched herself, just a bit. Really, she should sell tickets. She bet the Doctors would pay.</p><p>Once they’d worn themselves out after a good long show (oh, yes, there was actual <em>biting</em>, and it was delicious watching them sink their canines into each other’s skin), Missy clapped her hands twice to get their attention.</p><p>“Do you want,” she asked with a conspiratorial grin, “to <em>really</em> freak out the Doctors when they get back?”</p><p>Twenty and Eighteen wore equally devilish grins in agreement.</p><p>“Then <em>here</em>,” Missy said, beckoning them back onto the bed, “is what we do…”</p><p>***</p><p>A whoosh sounded.</p><p>A pause, and then a second whoosh.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor’s TARDIS materialised on the opposite side of the room from her ‘designated’ parking spot. At least she hadn’t blocked the door this time.</p><p>The Twelfth Doctor’s TARDIS, by pure chance, <em>did</em> just intersect with Thirteen’s parking spot, ever so slightly. He opened the door, stepped outside, and promptly set off the trigger in Twenty’s half-finished trap.</p><p>A bright yellow paint ball struck him squarely in the chest, hitting his shirt, jacket, those stupid sonic sunglasses, and part of the TARDIS door.</p><p>Missy and Eighteen both turned to look at Twenty, unimpressed.</p><p>“I was <em>going</em> to use Azidoazide Azide!” he defended himself. “But then <em>you two</em> distracted me!”</p><p>Eighteen snorted.</p><p>“A likely story,” Missy scoffed and got back to the task at hand.</p><p>“That’s why I never park in the same place twice,” Thirteen said to Twelve, who had just dematerialised all the paint and was stroking the once-more-blue side of his TARDIS lovingly. Then, Thirteen turned her attention to the Masters for the first time. “Oh no,” she paled in horror, “what have you <em>done</em>?”</p><p>Twelve looked their way as well and gawked a little. “How did you even—?” he sputtered. Then, “What were you thinking?” And finally, in shocked disbelief, “Have you gone <em>insane</em>? More so, I mean?”</p><p>Oh, their reaction was everything Missy and the Masters had hoped for, and more.</p><p>“What?” Twenty asked mock-innocently and returned to, very intently, painting delicate little rainbows onto each of Eighteen’s toenails.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor gaped like a fish at him.</p><p>Missy really couldn’t blame her; he <em>did</em> look thoroughly ridiculous. After they’d done <em>her</em> hair up in pigtails as was proper for any nail-polish party (and Eighteen proved surprisingly adept at pleating hair, who would have thought?), they’d had a go at Twenty’s hair, too. His hair had been short enough that they were mostly unsuccessful, but the hot-pink scrunchie Missy affixed to a small tuft on the left side of his head was miraculously still in place.</p><p>Eighteen’s hair had, of course, been hopeless for this task, but he’d always been up for some nice eyeshadow. Missy might have gone a bit overboard with the golds and reds and oranges, but she just couldn’t help herself when she was so <em>pretty</em>.</p><p>“This is not,” the Twelfth Doctor concluded slowly, “what it looks like. This is a cover for some scheme or trap or…” He trailed off hopefully.</p><p>Missy painted a tiny perfect red heart over the rainbow Twenty had lovingly painted on her right middle toe. He really had remarkable finesse with the nailbrush, better than she ever had, to be sure. Eighteen was hopeless with the thing, so they’d put him on decals: he was currently affixing a shiny silver unicorn sticker to Twenty’s big toenail.</p><p>“Are you seeing this?” the Thirteenth Doctor looked at the Twelfth, as if worried she’d gone mad. “I’m not actually seeing this, right?”</p><p>Twelve shook his head dumbly.</p><p>“Oh now,” Missy said with a dramatic eye-roll, “don’t act so surprised! We had an absolutely <em>lovely</em> little party in your absence. Didn’t we, boys?”</p><p>Twenty grinned up at his Doctor maniacally.</p><p>Eighteen grunted incoherently, entirely focused on the yellow smiley face he was applying to Missy’s toe now. He did tend to get so <em>absorbed</em> in his plans.</p><p>“And that’s a euphemism for…?” the Thirteenth Doctor trailed off warily.</p><p>Missy gave her an insincere, condescending smile. “Oh, we told stories and listened to some music. Had a few epic pillow fights.” She gave the Doctors a sly wink. “Enjoyed some quality girl-talk time.” She pressed one index finger against her lips and made a hushing sound. “Don’t tell anyone, but it turns out we all like the same boy. Well, boy-slash-girl. You know…”</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor blinked in abject disbelief.</p><p>“Yes, but the thing that’s about to explode right now,” Missy’s Doctor cut in. “Where is it, so that I can disarm it?”</p><p>Missy gave him a look of feigned surprise. “Explosions? Why ever would there be explosions? This is a <em>sleepover</em>!” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently.</p><p>The Doctors had gotten increasingly more paranoid the more she’d gone on. They looked absolutely frantic now, with Thirteen even going so far as to check under the bed for corpses and lethal weapons. As far as psychological mayhem went, this may have been Missy’s best idea <em>ever</em>.</p><p>“I don’t see the trap,” the Thirteenth Doctor said worriedly. “Do you see the trap?”</p><p>Twelve shook his head and assessed Missy suspiciously, as if starting to suspect that her real trap was that there wasn’t one. It really was a brilliant plan: a trap that never actually sprung could leave its victim in anxious anticipation indefinitely. “They’re bluffing,” he finally concluded, although he sounded just that littlest bit unsure, so that the thought would haunt him for days to come. Absolutely perfect.</p><p>Thirteen let out a sigh of exasperation and stalked over to the bed to yank the ridiculous scrunchie out of Twenty’s hair. He gave a delighted little shiver at having the Doctor literally pull his pigtail. “All right, you’ve had your fun. Well played.” She gave Eighteen an irritated look. “What are you even doing here?”</p><p>“You mean I’m not invited to <em>your</em> little sleepover?” Eighteen mock-pouted. “Doctor, I’m absolutely <em>crushed</em>. I was hoping we could make a nice orgy out of it.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure my Tenth incarnation would be just thrilled about that,” Thirteen retorted. “Don’t you have to go torment him?”</p><p>Eighteen’s eyes widened. “Is he back?” he asked, scrambling suddenly away from the nail decals and out of bed. The final heart Missy had been drawing on his pinkie toe trailed off abruptly as a result.</p><p>The Twelfth Doctor wisely stepped to the side, so that he was no longer between the Eighteenth Master and the door. “Already asking after where you’ve gone, although he might have got side-tracked by the chips shop that popped up in the lobby just now.”</p><p>Eighteen was about to run off when Missy reminded him, “Your toenails are still wet!” He halted sheepishly, turned give her a big “mwah!” smack on the lips, then gave Twenty a big “mwah!” smack on the lips, too.</p><p>The Thirteenth Doctor stepped back before he could get her, as well. Instead, he caught her by the wrist, brought her hand up to his mouth, and deliberately sucked her index finger into his mouth, cheeks hollowed out as he stared straight into her eyes. The Thirteenth Doctor actually flushed in response.</p><p>“Stop that!” Twenty objected. “Get your own Doctor to fellate!”</p><p>Eighteen flashed him an unrepentant grin and then walked on his heels, very carefully so as not to disturb his pretty toes, to the door. He goosed the Twelfth Doctor on his way out. Missy couldn’t really blame him for it; the urge to do so was almost irresistible.</p><p>“Well,” Thirteen said, “now that that’s over…”</p><p>Missy rose reluctantly from the bed. “Time to go home,” she agreed.</p><p>She and Twenty exchanged a pair of dramatic cheek kisses. When Missy pulled away, the Thirteenth Doctor was eyeing her with a little frown. Ooh, was she <em>jealous</em> of Missy? What a delightful twist that would be! Missy was just deciding on a really nasty way to play that fascinating bit of information to her advantage, when her Doctor caught her by the wrist and tugged her very pointedly in the direction of his TARDIS.</p><p>Missy gave him a bereft pout. He merely shook his head at her and led her through the door. He’d almost got it shut behind him when Missy spun abruptly in his grip, yanked the door back open, and shouted back, “We’ll do a threesome next time? Call me!” She mimed picking up a phone and pointed to the Doctor’s phone box.</p><p>In the interim, Thirteen had wasted no time pushing Missy’s Twentieth self back onto the bed and was straddling him. She looked up in alarm at Missy; underneath her, Twenty waved happily in Missy’s direction.</p><p>Missy slammed the TARDIS door back shut with a warm, squishy feeling in her stomach. She tried not to dwell too much how happy it made her to see <em>any</em> Doctor so possessive of <em>any</em> version of herself, because it really was rather pathetic.</p><p>“Are you through terrorising me, then?” Missy’s Doctor asked.</p><p>Missy arched an eyebrow and hopped up onto the TARDIS console right next to where he rested his left hand. “That doesn’t sound very much like me, now, does it?”</p><p>Her Doctor gave her a tight smile, almost shy, like she’d stolen it out of the deepest recesses of his hindbrain. Missy always had known how to make him smile, even after she’d massacred innocents; it was one of the reasons he became so upset with her: didn’t like having his dark humour exposed like that.</p><p>She shimmied her hips a bit to remind him that her skirts were <em>right there</em>, and he really might want to sneak his hand up them, if he knew what was good for him. “Take me home?” she asked sweetly.</p><p>“Yours or mine?” the Doctor asked.</p><p>“Mine,” Missy said, “<em>obviously</em>.”</p><p>“Obviously.”</p><p>***</p><p>Missy knew something was up the moment they were alone back in her rooms.</p><p>The Doctor was quiet, for one. That in itself was unheard of in the whole of space and time. Also, he kept fidgeting with his hands: fingers twitching, almost reaching out to touch her, before thinking twice and pulling back. Even without the whole mysterious conspiracy where all the Doctors had vanished off in their TARDISes, Missy would have known he was on edge.</p><p>“I don’t see why you wouldn’t let me stay,” Missy said overly brightly, over the Doctor’s ever-looming seriousness. “We could have had so much fun! There are rather a lot of pretty yous, after all. Pretty mes, too. We could make a picnic of it! Orgies in the park. I’m sure it would catch on. All of <em>me</em> would agree, at least. All of you? Well, that’s a different story. You <em>do</em> have an unfortunate tendency toward priggishness, I regret to inform you. You could do with some loosening up. Would you like me to loosen you up?”</p><p>Stopping for one breath to ask the Doctor a question had been a mistake. Left to her own devices, she probably could have babbled nervously for <em>centuries</em> without letting him get a word in edge-wise. But that pause gave him the chance he needed to seize back control of their little tête-à-tête.</p><p>“Could you just…stop, for one minute?” the Doctor pleaded, catching her shoulders and holding her in place. “There’s something I need to tell you.”</p><p>Missy froze. The Doctor didn’t <em>do</em> this, didn’t <em>talk</em> about things (well, things that mattered, at least). She eyed him warily, practically brimming over with the energy needed to escape. “One minute is an eternity, dear.” In the Matrix, that was even technically true.</p><p>He didn’t break eye contact with her, staring deep into her soul. That was a bad sign. After only a few seconds of it, Missy couldn’t help but look away, cursing herself for being a coward even as she did so.</p><p>“This,” the Doctor said, stepping closer and releasing her shoulders to pull something from his pocket, “belongs to you now.” He held something trapped between his closed palms that practically hummed with energy; a thin, gold chain spilled down from between his fingers, links interlaced with delicate craftsmanship.</p><p>Missy felt her respiratory system perform several unusual palpitations. Even her bypass seemed blocked, somehow. “I never took you for a jeweller,” she tried for flippant and failed spectacularly.</p><p>The Doctor smiled, lopsided and toothy and so cruelly disarming, like he knew exactly how lethal kindness was as a weapon against her. “Have a look,” he encouraged and opened his palms.</p><p>The pendant on the end of the chain was icosahedral in shape, each of its twenty faces embedded with the distinct tessellating patterns of nearly infinite layers of quantum circuit boards. A neon blue light illuminated the pendant from within, glowing through the cracks between the hardware. Obviously a power source and a massive data cluster, coupled with…some kind of holographic field stabiliser? Missy would have to examine it more closely to be sure.</p><p>It was beautiful.</p><p>It was obviously also functional in some way, which made it even better.</p><p>The Doctor rotated the pendant in his hands until he found one side that was different from the others, a smooth black face amid the incalculable databanks. “Telepathic interface,” he explained. “If you would do the honours?”</p><p>Oh, he did know how she liked things… Shakily, she reached out, her fingertips brushing his as she took a moment – but only a moment – to steady herself. Nominally in control once more, she pressed her thumb firmly onto the empty face of the icosahedron. It pulsed with light once, twice, and then on the third pulse, the key locked onto her telepathic signature. When she moved her hand away, the formerly blank face now contained an imprint of her thumbprint, each groove imbedded into the material of the pendant in that electric blue light.</p><p>“I don’t…” Missy began, because now that she’d linked with it, she was starting to grasp why it needed such massive data storage. “How did…?”</p><p>“It’s not <em>that</em> hard to hack the Matrix,” the Doctor started in, as if he’d been fighting very hard to restrain himself, but now his propensity for word-vomit could no longer be held back. “All we had to do was rematerialise inside the mainframe, put up a few recursion algorithms to distract any security bots that might happen to look our way, and use a few of the access codes that I may have stolen back when they were foolish enough to make me Lord President. The trickiest part, of course, was constructing enough storage to house—”</p><p>Missy finally snapped from her stupor at that and practically snarled at him. “You <em>idiot</em>!” she exclaimed, whapping him lightly on the shoulder. Well, it was meant to be something of a whap; somehow, she ended up clinging to him, instead. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? If one of the Matrix Lords had <em>caught</em> you—!” She choked up abruptly at the thought of <em>all</em> the Doctors wiped from the Matrix, an eternity spent alone, without…</p><p>“Oh, like there was ever much danger of <em>that</em>!” the Doctor said nonchalantly, looking <em>invigorated</em>, of all things, at his absolutely stupid brush with permanent death. “We’d have talked our way out of it, somehow. You know us.”</p><p>Missy did, only too well. Cocky, overconfident, self-sacrificing to a fault. She hated them so much and loved them so much that it <em>hurt</em>. “Imbecile,” she muttered, and wrapped her arms tight around his midsection, pressing her cheek to his chest in the space right between his hearts so that she could assure herself that both were still beating strongly.</p><p>“Oh. Well…” The Doctor sounded a mix of pleasantly surprised and confused at her concern, like he was just now realising what it would have done to her if he’d failed. “You Masters do it all the time, though,” he offered sheepishly.</p><p>“We Masters,” Missy corrected him with a roll of her eyes, feeling more herself now that the brief moment of abject panic had passed and she’d thoroughly reassured herself that he was, indeed, whole, “actually <em>paid attention</em> in all our telepathic-theory classes. We practically <em>are</em> Matrix Lords, not bumbling noobs. And even we didn’t try to copy <em>the entire Matrix database</em>.”</p><p>She looked up at her Doctor. He grinned down at her madly, like he was especially proud of that particularly idiotic feat.</p><p>“Brilliant, isn’t it?” he said delightedly.</p><p>Missy laughed, because it was.</p><p>“And,” he concluded, “I doubt you’d have settled for anything less.” He pulled back so that there was just enough space between them to drape the gold chain of the pendant around her neck. The icosahedron settled comfortably between her breasts, like it had always belonged there. “Your very own holographic simulation of the entire known universe,” he concluded. “That’s what you always meant to conquer, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Missy, horrifyingly, felt herself about to tear up. “Oh,” she said, fully realising what he’d just given her. “Oh…”</p><p>“You are now,” he informed her, looking far too smug at his complete and total victory over her, the absolute bastard, “Mistress of the Universe. Congratulations.”</p><p>“Oh…” Missy suddenly seemed pathologically incapable of saying anything else.</p><p>“Feel a bit of a snit coming on? Want to wipe out every living thing? Poof! Gone!” The Doctor waved one hand in front of her face. “Get bored with that? We’ve built in save-points. Just revert back, and everything will respawn.” He frowned. “Actually, when you think about it, quite a lot like how fixed points in time work, back in our universe. You don’t think…” His mind derailed onto its own little mental excursion for a moment.</p><p>Missy closed her eyes, and she could <em>feel</em> them within the pendant: spirals and galaxies, planets and stars, trillions of simulated little lives, all hers to command. Just to test it out, she obliterated them all with a thought, giddy with the power, the Goddess she’d been born to become at last. She hummed contentedly at the desolation she’d wrought, for a moment, and then graciously tested out bringing those lives all back. They popped up, little whispers that she could focus on, snuff out one by one when she wanted, then restore as if they were nothing. Her playthings.</p><p>She realised, belatedly, that the Doctor had finally stopped talking and was studying her carefully.</p><p>She gulped, bit her lip, and offered him an apologetic smile. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid!</em> She scolded herself. Of <em>course</em>, this wasn’t just a gift. Nothing from the Doctor ever was. It had been a test, and she’d just failed it miserably, and now what would he do?</p><p>But the Doctor just shook his head and brought her hand affectionately, gallantly up to his lips. The gesture was unmistakable: No, not a test, really and truly hers, she could do what she wanted, and he didn’t care and wouldn’t stop her. Academically, after their very long conversations in both the Vault and Matrix, she even vaguely understood why: For some bizarre reason there was a distinction, to him, between people who had really lived in the real world whose lives were gone permanently, and simulacra of data whose ‘deaths’ could be undone. Really, she didn’t see the distinction – both were equally amusing to watch squirm and die – but it was definitely there for him.</p><p>They’d compromised on many things over the eons, but never before had he found a way that she could still be <em>herself</em> and he wouldn’t hate her for it anymore.</p><p>At that moment, Missy loved him so much that she wanted to crawl under his skin and lick his brain from the inside. That was normal, right? Surely that was normal.</p><p>“And if,” he coughed pointedly, trying to act like this wasn’t the single most perfect moment in all her lives, “you ever wanted to do a bit of old-fashioned exploring, all you’d need would be someone with a handy TARDIS, that may just happen to be keyed in to the coordinates within your pocket universe now, and the holographic simulators would make it seem, in effect, equivalent to that lifetime journey we always planned to take together.”</p><p>He looked so earnest and anxious at the end of that, like he didn’t know that that little taint of selfishness that made him just like <em>her</em>, was the icing on the cake. Missy couldn’t help but smile and nod. She really was crying now, how humiliating. “How though…” she finally forced out her real question. “How did you <em>do</em> this?”</p><p>The Doctor frowned, seemingly baffled. “What do you mean? I just told you. Used the TARDIS to travel to the Matrix databanks and—”</p><p>“No, no,” Missy cut him off impatiently. “I know how you <em>did</em> it. How did you <em>do</em> something like this? You never do anything like this. Never.”</p><p>Fortunately, they’d known each other long enough that the Doctor was able to decipher that incoherent mess. Doubly fortunately, he was actually feeling chuffed enough at his accomplishment that he didn’t dodge her true question. “Well…” he said, looking down, hands slipping defensively in his pockets, an embarrassed pink to his cheeks. “I tried to look up what the proper etiquette was for the billionth anniversary, but strangely couldn’t find any citations. It had to be proportionally better than platinum, though, so I figured… Billionth anniversary is the Universe Anniversary. Sound about right?”</p><p>“Sounds perfect,” Missy admitted, wiping at her cheeks. Stupid Doctor with his stupid ability to be stupidly romantic at exactly the wrong times. “Also,” she added sharply, “we passed our billionth anniversary eons ago.”</p><p>“So, early for me, then!” the Doctor said happily.</p><p>Missy couldn’t help herself: she laughed, freely and delightedly, at this absolute madman she’d finally captured for her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up on her toes to kiss him, which was obviously the reaction he’d been hoping for.</p><p>She went a little dizzy when he wrapped one arm around the small of her back and dipped her low throughout their kiss. Then, suddenly, she felt herself lifted up into the air and let out a thrilled squeal to find herself in the Doctor’s arms princess-style.</p><p>“Comfortable?” he teased in response to her glare.</p><p>She kicked her rainbow toes in the air petulantly and unfortunately quite ineffectually. “You are <em>asking</em> for it, Doctor,” she growled at him.</p><p>“Is there really a time I’m <em>not</em> asking for it?” he asked rhetorically.</p><p>Missy felt a wee bit squishy in the chest at that. “Fine, fine,” she said wearily. “Just this once.” She held up one demanding finger, nail pointed squarely at his eye. “But don’t you <em>ever</em> tell any of the others that I let you…”</p><p>“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised and carried her, bridal-style, over to the bed.</p><p>“Boingy, boingy!” she said with a bounce, just to be obnoxious, when he dropped her onto the mattress.</p><p>He snorted at her antics, and did that half-smile/half-scowl thing like this face didn’t quite understand what a proper smile looked like. His eyebrows really should be studied, in case they were a new sentient lifeform hitherto unknown to science.</p><p>Fondly, he traced one fingertip down her cheek, over the corner of her lips (where she snapped at it), down the line of her throat, up past the sudden heave of her chest, to settle on the universe that now lay between her hearts. Twin hearts. It was fitting, really, one for the universe that was now hers, and the second for the Doctor who had always, <em>always</em> been hers (even when he’d been an idiot in denial). She didn’t think she could survive a third love in her lives.</p><p>“Well?” she demanded when, in typical Doctorly fashion, he dithered about aimlessly instead of fucking her hard into the bed.</p><p>“Can I just…take my time for once?” he asked with exasperation.</p><p>“No,” Missy insisted and vanished his clothes.</p><p>He gave her a tender but annoyed look, and proceeded to open the buttons of her blouse, one at a time, with agonising slowness, as if savouring the whole experience.</p><p>Missy allowed herself to tolerate this for a while, because he was rather sweet, and it was even a little bit sexy at first. By the time he’d decided that, apparently, her skirt needed to be unzipped one inch at the time, though, she’d officially had enough of that.</p><p>“If you want something done right…” She vanished her clothes as well, everything but the pendant around her neck.</p><p>“I was enjoying that!” he protested.</p><p>“You’ll enjoy this even more.”</p><p>“I’d enjoy it if, for once, you’d actually let me do things at my own pa—Oof!”</p><p>The very notion was so absurd that she naturally had to strangle it right out of him. And, by ‘strangle’, she meant wrapping her legs and arms around him so tightly that he fell fully on top her and kissing him breathless when he tried to object. You know, a love-strangle.</p><p>He melted into her quite satisfactorily after that, hands cupping her hips to align them better, then reaching up to tease her breasts, ghosting over her skin until she had goosebumps.</p><p>See, this was the problem with letting him set his own pace. It was just like when they’d been alive: leave things to him, and he’d procrastinate until they were both dead.</p><p>She arched up, trying to catch his cock inside her, but it was remarkably tricky from this position. That was, of course, why she belonged on top, but she let him have his little victory just this once. After all, it really had been a lovely present.</p><p>Fortunately, she’d done an excellent job driving him to impatience, and she didn’t have long to wait. He buried his face into one of her pigtails when he pushed inside her, gasping with relief right against the top her ear. Her legs tightened their stranglehold around him, holding him deep inside so that she could feel every inch. Her nails trailed up and down his back, just enough to tantalise but not cut, not yet: he’d have to make her scream to earn that exquisite pain.</p><p>“Doctor?” she whispered sweetly into his ear.</p><p>“Hmm?” He shuddered in her arms.</p><p>“<em>Move</em>.”</p><p>“Your wish is my command,” he said, and began thrusting, slowly and deliberately at first, before picking up his pace, harder and harder and…</p><p>Oh, he knew her kinks only too well.</p><p>They scrambled for their points of connection, bodies joined in frantic rhythm, foreheads pressed together, minds sinking ever deeper into each other, hands coming up above Missy’s head on the pillows, fingers interlacing and holding each other in place.</p><p>Missy felt him through and through, and permeated his being in turn. Such a horrible clash they’d always been, and a perfect match, two dipoles colliding and repelling, leaving the universe in chaos in their wake.</p><p>“Do you need…?” the Doctor asked, pulling back to look down at her.</p><p>“Mmm…” Missy agreed.</p><p>He released her hands, so that he could seek out her clit. His thumb brushed over her once too lightly, then a firmer back and forth. “Like this? Or…?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>!” Missy’s eyes shot open wide. “That!”</p><p>The Doctor grinned at that, the hint of tooth against lip, just a little bit dangerous even at his most tender.</p><p>Missy felt a shiver of pleasure run through her. The tension was building steadily now, with every well-timed swirl of his thumb and thrust of his hips.</p><p>“Good?” he asked hopefully, slowing for just a moment.</p><p>“Could be better,” she snapped.</p><p>“Then, will you…?” He picked up the pace again, hitting that rhythm <em>just</em> right.</p><p>“Oh, twist my arm, why don’t you?” she agreed fondly, and wrapped her arms around his back. “Actually,” she admitted, “we should try that some time. Might be <em>hot</em>.” She breathed out the heat right against his cheek.</p><p>His breath hitched, and he began working her faster now, obviously in danger of coming himself. Tighter and tighter, the pleasure coiled inside her, closer and closer, and…<em>there</em>!</p><p>She screamed for him and gave him what he wanted, <em>needed</em> so badly, raking her nails down his back sharply, tracing her signature in red lines down his skin.</p><p>He came on the heels of her orgasm, trembling above her and inside her, beautiful in this one moment of perfect giving and perfect taking, the two of them united so closely that it was hard to remember that there’d ever been any difference between them at all.</p><p>He collapsed beside her rather than on top of her when he’d finished, because he was a considerate lover like that, and also because the one time he’d half-smothered her, he’d awoken from his post-coital bliss to find himself tethered, still naked, to a column in the atrium back in his own Matrix mindscape. She’d made him grovel for a good century or so before she’d even deigned to tell him what he’d done wrong, and then he’d had yet more grovelling to do before she’d forgiven him.</p><p>This was quite nice, though, warm and cosy and too close for comfort. Like everything Doctor-related, it was a bit incoherent, stuttered murmurs that might have been confessions if they ever fully formed, their bodies nudging closer, so familiar with each other after all these years that they came together without the need for any proper words.</p><p>“Night-night,” she said, grinning at him menacingly as he drifted off to sleep.</p><p>Mad creature that he was, he actually smiled softly at her in response, before he was out like a life (sic).</p><p>Missy simply wouldn’t have him any other way.</p><p>***</p><p>Her smile wasn’t any less menacing when he opened his eyes again.</p><p>“What?” he asked blearily, shifting uncomfortably on the cold, hard metal of the exam table. The movement caused his skimpy hospital gown to fall open in the back. He groaned when he realised where he was. “This again?”</p><p>Missy pouted. “But we never got to finish last time!” she insisted. “You have to make it up to me!”</p><p>The Doctor nudged her out of the way and sat up, trying in vain to tug the hospital gown into any kind of remotely comfortable configuration. Missy knew it would be impossible, though: she chose her instruments of torture most meticulously.</p><p>“I just <em>did</em> make it up to you!” He gestured to the universe pendant that, from this moment on, would never be more than inches from her hearts.</p><p>“Darling, darling…” Missy tsked disappointedly. “Haven’t you learned yet? You’ll <em>never</em> be able to make it <em>all</em> up to me.”</p><p>“Never?” the Doctor asked incredulously.</p><p>“No escape.” She shook her head mock-sadly.</p><p>“Then I am…?”</p><p>“My prisoner,” Missy thrilled just to say it, and clutched one hand around the Doctor’s pert bottom.</p><p>He squealed, as if in shock, even after all these years.</p><p>“<em>Forever</em>,” Missy promised him direly.</p><p>He gulped, deliciously. He really did know exactly how to push all her buttons, her Doctor.</p><p>With the universe around her neck and the Doctor’s bum firmly in her talons, Missy was exactly where she wanted to be.</p><p>“Now, where were we again? That’s right!” Missy snapped on a pair of latex gloves that had just materialised from thin air and popped open an industrial-sized tube of medical lubricant. “Bend over, legs wide, and relax for the duration of your examination.”</p><p>The Doctor’s eyes widened, and a delightful scowl formed on his face before he said, brilliantly, “Yes, Mistress,” and obeyed.</p><p>Oh, how she adored him!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, Missy pretty much hijacked this fic from the get-go, the way she hijacks everything. I just went along with wherever her bananas took me. I honestly had thought that if I stuck three Masters in a bed, they'd have sex but, no, apparently that was too predictable. (I think they're all too hung up on the Doctor, tbh.)</p><p>Also, at this point I might as well confess: All the plot in this series thus far has been a long conspiracy to get to this point, so that I now can write smut-fic of any combination of Doctors and Masters, anywhere in the universe, without having to explain how they got there. :P</p><p>And, for those wondering: Yes, that one episode of 'Pinky &amp; the Brain' did inspire the Doctor's gift in this.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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